


i’m all yours (i’ve got no control)

by SpaceWaffleHouseTM



Series: One Shots from the Waffle House [10]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ben is a little shit, Does that count as exhibitionism, F/M, Hate fucking, No Pregnancy, Remote Vibrators, Smut, asking for me, orgasming in public
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 20:16:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20880065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceWaffleHouseTM/pseuds/SpaceWaffleHouseTM
Summary: Based on a prompt from Reylo_prompts on twitter for their 1000th prompt challenge:It’s tough for Rey, having her angsty fuck-buddy as her opposing counsel. It’s even more difficult when he’s got the remote to the couple’s vibrator she’s wearing.





	i’m all yours (i’ve got no control)

**Author's Note:**

> yes the title is from a One Direction song you’re welcome.

From the moment he suggested it, she’s known this was a bad idea. She’s known it’s never a good thing to bring their secret, deeply buried sex life into court, but she agreed to it anyway a week earlier because the case had been slowing lately and they both needed a new form of entertainment. Hence the remote vibrator currently stuffed into the fabric of her underwear that had arrived through amazon prime free two-day shipping a few days ago. 

The very same vibrator that a member of the opposing counsel is now using to torment her as she defends the state. 

She looks at him occasionally as she makes her argument, watches the tiny smirk on his face that always gives away what he’s about to do just under a second before he actually does it. Each time, she braces herself against the desk in front of her, palms spread out on the wood in what appears to onlookers as just a power stance, but is actually an attempt to keep herself from falling weak to the knees. 

Rey can’t collapse here, as much as she desperately wants to.

The vibration comes exactly on schedule, causing her voice to quaver ever so slightly as she discusses evidence found at the scene of the crime they’re here for. Her voice trembles as she speaks, as she talks about how the defendant was found wearing a jacket that had fibers matching those found at the murder site. “H-his jacket was made of a synthetic fabric composed of ninety-five percent cotton, three percent p-polyester, and-and two percent n-nylon,” she says, sparing Ben a glance as she looks away from the judge for a few seconds, unable to look the woman in the eyes as he brings her a little closer to orgasm. “The same comp-composition as the fibers found in the victim’s fingernails.”

She’s glaring at Ben now, and he only keeps grinning, keeps holding down the button that causes the vibrator to hum quietly against her clit until she’s done speaking.  _ Oh _ , she hates him so much. The fire in her belly that had been there from the moment they’d met ignites as she sits down, the vibrations no longer rendering her completely useless as she watches him. 

The bastard is still smirking as he rises, and attempts to refute her statement, claiming they found no blood on the defendant’s jacket, but there hasn’t exactly been much blood at the crime scene to begin with. The murder had been through strangulation, after all. As he rises and gives his statement, she thinks she can see a glimpse of the remote in his hand, and she watches his thumb brush over it as if he’s contemplating doing it to her again. 

_ Don’t you dare _ , she thinks, but then the damn thing starts to  _ sing  _ against her, and she only just resists throwing her head back and moaning his name.  _ God _ , she wants to scream his name, wants to swear loudly enough that the big man upstairs descends to send her to hell himself for what she’s doing—what  _ they’re  _ doing—but she can’t. No one can know, or they’ll both be fired. No one can ever know. 

She bites the inside of her lip to keep from screaming as she feels pressure coiling in her gut. Panic almost overwhelms her for a second as she realizes she might just be about to come in public, and she isn’t sure what she should do about that. This isn’t a problem she’s ever had before, and a part of her is frightened but the majority of her is utterly  _ thrilled.  _

There’s something exciting about it, and so she lets go of her fear, and tries to focus on what Ben’s saying, letting his deep voice coax her closer and closer to the edge as she imagines him saying it all in her bed as she rides him with reckless abandon, as they both try and come apart together. That’s exactly what she plans to do with him later, after all. She’s going to make him come harder than he ever has for this, she’s going to ruin him for anyone else after her. 

What they have may not be love, but he sure as hell won’t forget her when it’s over. He won’t be able to think about anyone  _ but  _ her in the aftermath.

Ben sits down, and she gets a brief reprieve from his actions, but it’s not long before the judge starts talking again, and she gets another glance at the man who keeps her bed warm. This time, she’s the one who smirks at him, she’s the one who holds his gaze as he holds his finger down over that button, and forces her to ball up the fabric of her blazer into the fists resting on her lap. 

If anyone can see the strained, almost painful look she has no doubt is plastered on her face, she can’t care at this point. So far Ben seems to be the only one aware of just how close she is, but he’s also quite good at reading her. He knows how close she is. 

This becomes clear when the vibrations grow more intense, when she can feel herself starting to fall over the edge. Her eyes shut, and she prays it just looks like she’s experiencing a migraine or something as waves of pleasure rush through her, and she comes apart in front of the entire court. 

It’s one of the best orgasms she’s ever had, and she hates him for it. She hates how dazed she feels as she comes down from her high, as she looks over at him and  _ knows  _ her entire face is blissed out from what he’s done to her. 

She especially hates how he’s still grinning like a Cheshire Cat beneath the hand covering his mouth, how he’s satisfied with what he’s done to her, and how after this, she really can’t hate him at all. 


End file.
